Wednesday was not what I had planned. That can be good, bad or both depending on how I chose to look at it.

Each day for me starts out pretty much the same. Wake up, get dressed, do my morning chores. Morning chores consist of filling everyone’s water containers for the day. Without them pre-measured, none of us drinks enough water. two protein smoothies are made, one for me, one for my dad. Two bowls of quick oats are prepped, one for me, one for my honey. Pecans, craisens and freeze dried blueberries for me, fresh banana slices and maple syrup for my honey. I take a few minutes to fling a rope toy for the cats also. After I finally sit down to eat and read thyroid comics, I head out to the shop to put the seedlings out into the sun for the day to begin to harden them before planting. This week I have had the added task of distributing two homeopathic remedies to my father throughout the days to help him recover from a foot injury, and making the daily pilgrimage to the mailbox to get our newspaper.

Around 8:00am I checked my phone for new messages. I missed the 3:00am text asking for prayer for our six month old granddaughter who was just taken to the emergency room due to problems breathing and a seal bark cough. Croup runs in the family. I was hospitalized as a toddler with it, my son had it and now his daughter has it. It is scary, but usually short lived, maybe a week. The second text said that my son would be staying home with her and teaching virtually, since mom had just started a new job and was home sick with a fever the day before.

The first call came in around 11:30 from mom, asking if I head heard from her honey (our son). They were going to need help with the older kids that day. They would need someone to pick them up from school. They were also trying to figure out how to get dad and grandson to baseball practice without sick baby. I offered to stay and watch her until mom got home. And just because this is what family does, I also offered to drive our teen granddaughter to youth group after mom got home so she could unwind from work.

As I got off the phone with her, a text from my son binged asking me to call. I did and explained the plan. He was grateful. I asked all the cursory questions, including “is there anything you need?”. A few minutes after saying goodbye, he called back and asked if I could pickup some purified, filtered water for formula as he was running out of moms milk that she had pumped. Of course I could. I ran and picked that and a few dinner ingredients up then delivered it to him. I headed home for lunch, then did two small tasks that were on my long to do list. I then headed to the school to get kids.

Here’s where it got crazy. I took the kids to Subway to get sandwiches at 4:00. The boys would leave before dinner and not get home until eight-ish. The mom in me said they should have something to eat. Mom might be tired and prefer not to cook. The older granddaughter would be fed at youth group. As we pulled out of the parking lot, our daughter and grandsons (5 & 2) from overseas called. I had the kids answer and talk to their aunt and cousins while I drove. We arrived at their house at 4:25. The grandson and dad both went to get ready for baseball and eat the rut sandwiches. I picked up the baby who was a little hoarse, but seems happy. Within moment she projecto-vomited all over me, herself, the couch, and a pile of baby blankets. My older granddaughter put things into the washing machine while I removed my sweatshirt and changed the baby’s clothes. The boys left, the granddaughter diligently went into her room to work on homework, and I ended up walking around outside with baby to keep her happy until mom arrived at 5:30. I left at 5:45 and drove the girl to youth group, thoroughly enjoying the one on one time with her for twenty minutes. Then it was home to fix dinner for the three of us and to get the house ready for my first day of babysitting the baby. Every Thursday will be my day to have her. We are trying to help them cut down on the cost of daycare.

After getting my morning chores done that night, and getting my evening chores (scoop both litter boxes) done, I brushed my teeth, got into some flannel pajamas and settled onto the loveseat with my honey. Waldorf, our big, grey Tomcat settled into my lap, while Statler the black tom settled into the chair to my right. We watched two episodes of Fixer Upper sans commercials before I started to drift off.

My plans for the day were in shambles, my to do list largely untouched. But, I consider it a good thing. I need to learn to go with the flow of life, and not get frustrated when my schedule is disrupted. I want to be flexible as i age and not get my patterns etched into stone. I don’t want to drive myself, or my family, crazy.

I hope today, in the midst of whatever chaos may come your way, that you can let go of the frustration of disruption, and enjoy the flow of a different current. See the value of time invested in people. And reap the rewards in your heart.


Time passes…

Each morning I wake up. The sun has illuminated the sky from behind the horizon. It will rise soon, an hour earlier (according to timekeeping devices only) starting tomorrow (yuck!) . I lay in bed and thank Yahuah/Yahweh/the LORD/the Creator, that I am alive and have another day to bring joy to him, to hopefully make a difference in the lives I come into contact with throughout the day. I pet the cats, get dressed, fill water bottles for the day, read the newspaper comics section while I eat, then start my day.

Pandemic or no, life has continued with minor changes. I wake up, I do what I do, I go to bed, and start the process the next day after (hopefully) a good night of sleep. My hair continues to get grayer… and thinner… and straighter. I continue to have days when I am happy with my hair, and days when I think it looks old, I should do something different. I just don’t have the mental energy to find a new look, or figure out how to get my old look with new hair. Or, maybe it’s not lack of energy, but a lack of motivation? After all, working in our dusty garage organizing, or out in the garden, my long hair is usually pulled up and out of my face and off my neck for comfort. It’s rare that I have an occasion to look nice. But then, I feel bad that my husband has to see the grungy or freshly showered with wet hair me when he gets home every night. Last night I used a lot of hairspray and curled my tresses for him.

Our grandchildren continued to grow and mature during these unprecedented times too. Yikes! Our oldest is almost my full 5’8” height at 13 years old! What a strange feeling. I don’t remember feeling that weird when our son passed my height. Didn’t have to with our daughter, she is a couple inches shorter than I am. Will they all pass me up in height? Maybe just my sons two oldest? Genetics fascinate me.

Plants continued to grow this year too. Voles continued to create dirt mounds in the lawn area. They even decided to eat the roots of one of my young apple trees this winter. Sad, but true. I found it laying on the ground after some wind. I know it wasn’t the wind, because it wasn’t uprooted, and there were the tell tale mounds of dirt at the base of the tree. Yah willing, they won’t get find the other three tree’s roots as tasty. Maybe I should plant insects in the ground for them so they leave the plants alone. Sigh.

Babies were born last year and are now crawling or walking, eating mush and gooing and cooing to imitate talk. Just like in the past. Cars racked up miles as they were driven. Just like in the past. Businesses stayed open, some closed, some new ones opened. Just like in the past. Trees produced flowers, then pollen (gesundheit!), then leaves, provided shade, the leaves turned colors then fell to the earth. Just like in the past.

Time has passed, and continues to pass. At my age, 55, it sometimes seems to be an alarming rate. I almost feel like 2020 didn’t really happen, but all the signs show it did. Yes, many things changed, masks were worn, telecommuting become common for way more people, less people traveled, etc. But, time continued, each day happened, the changes were just a little more dramatic than we are used to.

I want to be sure not to let the things that did change be my focus. The details of life are always in flux, changing from day to day. Governments change, ways of life change, people change. But, time continues to pass, life continues. As humans, we need hope, something to look forward to. I can be sad because I can’t travel to where part of my family is, or I can be thankful for video calls with said family. I can be angry with governmental changes I don’t agree with, or I can be thankful I don’t live in a war torn nation in Africa. I can be bummed that food prices seem to have doubled overnight, or be thankful I have food and pray for those who don’t. It’s all about perspective.

A card I recently bought.

I wish for this world, an attitude of gratitude. That people could learn to be content with life, with the sun rising and setting each day. To be able to look past the struggle and find something, no matter how small, to be thankful for. Maybe if we all practiced this, this world would be a better place. Maybe.

New life…

There’s nothing like the miracle of birth and a new life to give you perspective on what is truly important. While my husband and I and about 100 friends were celebrating the Day of Trumpets in our shop, our son and daughter in law were at the hospital delivering our fifth grandchild, their third child. People asked why we weren’t at the hospital. I reminded them that COVID has emptied hospital waiting rooms. We waited at home. Thankfully, mother and our new grand daughter were both happy and healthy after a c-section.

When I look at a new baby, I feel hope for the future. I feel joyous and excited. All thoughts of current world events disappear, and there is a new life. A tiny girl to pray for, and to eventually take to ice cream and listen to her chat about friends, and other things. a beautiful being to share about the love of Yahuah God for her with, to celebrate his goodness with.

This child is my father’s seventh great grandchild. His eighth was born three days later, and number nine will be born sometime in November. He has crocheted baby blankets for all seven of his grandchildren and all nine of his great grands. I wish that I could carry on that tradition for him when he is gone someday. The traditions I have started for my grands are I order baby announcements for each one, and try to create a photo book for each ones first year of life. Most of them also get double sided flannel blankets from me too. For my kids, I used to make them matching flannel jammies for New Years. Our ten year old grandson was wearing a nightshirt I had made for his dad at the same age. That brought back lots of memories.

My day is ending. By the time you read this, I will either be snoozing soundly or waking up for some Sabbath pie. As each day ends, and your head hits the pillow, I hope you can identify something that brings hope and joy to your heart, that helps to erase the events of the world, if even for just a moment.